True Stories I Made Up

As a young boy he always dreamt of becoming something beyond any thought process. He would day dream all day about the man he would grow up to be. He would dream about his life and the people involved and he knew that the city he lived in wasn’t anything special, so nothing from there would be a part of his life. He distanced himself from everyone there. So called friends, employers, teachers, mentors, and even family. He wanted no part of this potential life he could easily settle for and drown in.

They day he turned 18 he left for a new life. Ditching everyone and everything. He headed out West. He always heard life was better there. Beautiful girls, interesting people, and a muse. Out there no one knew him at all. He was another face just lost in a sea of faces. No one really knows where he went to, but he was destined to be something great.

He started getting into experimenting with drugs, alcohol, and one night stands. He would lie about his name, and no one really even knew him. He lied so much that even he forgot his name. He would sit on the side of the street smoking a cigarrette and strumming a guitar. People would leave money next to him, but he just left it there when he got up. He wasn’t after money or any sympathy. He would sing his version of the blues and tell stories he made up within his songs. Sometimes he’d sing about a beautiful girl that caught his eye that day, but never take it further than that. He wasn’t after love. He wasn’t after getting attention. He was trying to find a way to put his life in order.

(To Be Continued…)